


Survival

by Madam_Fiction



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: Attacked, Blood, Cuts, F/M, Hurt, Love, Scars, cathry - Freeform, earned love, frary, injured, stabbed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 15:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11877249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Fiction/pseuds/Madam_Fiction
Summary: This is like a theory that when the soldiers seized the castle Mary and her ladies made it out of the passageways and Catherine was left with the men. Also the Italic font means they’re either thinking or remembering something. Again rated T for violence.





	1. Cuts

**This is like a theory that when the soldiers seized the castle Mary and her ladies made it out of the passageways and Catherine was left with the men. Also the _Italic_ font means they’re either thinking or remembering something. Again rated T for violence.**

The dining room was filled with the Count and his men they were drinking expensive wine and the finest foods in the castle. Laughing about how weak France was Catherine was practically biting her tongue to keep from lashing out on them. When she had presented them with the gold she was relieved to see nearly all the men stuff their pockets with it, all except Count Vincent. She watched him out of the corner of her eye praying he would take some yet he did not. As the night drawled on she was becoming restless, had Francis and her boys escaped? Would the poison work and if it did would it be in time?

 

Mary stood and made her excuse to leave with her ladies and Catherine was careful not to hold her breath, would they let her go? The slightly drunk men agreed and the girls left hastily, leaving Catherine with the soldiers. She tried to act calm but when the girls were gone for nearly fifteen minutes the men started to realize they weren’t coming back. The men whispered among themselves, she strained her ears to here what they were talking about but she only caught the occasional word.

 

The Count sent some men to find them and suddenly everyone was looking at her with accusing eyes. She pretending not to pick up on it but she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She kept her hands clenched in her lap, praying the girls and her sons were okay. Finally the men came back “They’ve escaped!” He exclaimed and suddenly there was uproar.

 

Count Vincent called for silence and the room fell still as all heads turned to look at the Count, who was walking over towards Catherine. She was still as a statue as she felt the Count move behind her she didn’t dare turn her head to look at him. All of a sudden two hands gripped her shoulder with such force she had to hold in the whimper, still with a straight face she sat silently. His cold voice issued from behind her “Where did they go?”

 

She answered indifferently, “I don’t know they don’t trust me enough to say anything to me.”

 

Sadly the Count wasn’t buying it “Don’t bother lying we will get an answer one way or another.” He slid his dagger in front of her neck, there was no escape now she could only pray that the poison would work. Either way she wouldn’t utter a word to give away Mary’s and the others location she didn’t care if it meant dying. She was ready to die if it meant saving the people she loved, that had always been her weakness. She would sacrifice anything for those she truly cared about, even her own life. “I’ll ask again.” Vincent grumbled, “Where did they go?”

 

Lacing her voice with sarcasm she replied, “I’ll answer again, I don’t know.”

 

“Maybe the loss of one of your precious fingers will change your mind.” He grabbed her hand even as she struggled and pressed it to the table, raising his dagger over her index finger. She closed her eyes waiting for the pain but it never came all she heard was someone shout “M’lord!” She opened her eyes to see all the Count’s men bleeding uncontrollably, some reaching for water others already falling down in a bloody mess, the poison had worked! Soon all the intruders had fallen down dead, the room was covered in blood and bodies and she was careful not to barf. All she had to do was get out, and they’d all be safe.

 

She sprang to her feet, the stench of blood not affecting her in the least as she made her way towards the door. Her success was short lived however because in one swift movement the Count had slammed her against the table. Plates crashed around her as wine splashed from the cups spilling onto her dress. She thought she felt a fork stab into her back and the tablecloth bunched around her. She yelped as he clambered on top of her pinning her arms to the table “You did this!” He hissed in her face.

 

Despite the situation she couldn’t help the sarcastic answer that spilled off her lips “Anyone with half a brain and two eyes could see that couldn’t they?”

 

He was fuming as her held the dagger against her neck “How did you do it?”

 

She couldn’t help feeling a little spark of pride as she looked at what she’d done, “The gold was poisoned.”

 

He growled at her “You filthy rat.”  


She rolled her eyes at him, “One of us is a rat but it isn’t me.”

 

“Maybe I’ll cut off your tongue first so you’ll be quiet.” He spat.

 

He threats didn’t scare her, the people she loved were safe the reign was secured she wasn’t needed anymore. She locked eyes with him hers showed no fear just anger and betrayal that haunted her from within. “You don’t scare me.” She said coldly.

 

“Perhaps not, but you’ll be pleading for death before I’m through with you.” He brought his dagger to her wrist tracing the veins on her pale skin, not breaking skin but hard enough to feel the sharpness of the blade. He looked at her pure hatred gleaming from his eyes, “Careful not to bite off your tongue when you scream.” He sneered before pressing the tip of his blade into her wrist, he waited for the pain to sink in.

 

As the blade traced her skin she prepared herself for the pain and when it came she inhaled sharply. Then he moved the blade, he was making some sort of pattern or writing something but she could care less the pain was immense. Then suddenly the blade was removed but not shortly after it was stabbed back into her arm, deeper this time extracting a gasp from her. In, out, more blood running down her arm, head spinning heart pounding she lost track of time. Finally the knife left and didn’t renter her blood stained arm, she dared open her eyes to look at the Count.

 

He was getting extremely annoyed that she hardly had any reaction to the dagger, all she would do is breathe heavily and shut her eyes. Finally he took the blade out of her arm before laughing heartlessly before adding “Time for the other arm.”

 

She didn’t know if she would be able to endure much more of this and keep her screams from escaping her lips. He was still sitting atop her and she felt him shift so he could carve into her other arm. Pressing the weapon once again into her skin she felt herself whimper and he chuckled before saying “There’s the reaction I was looking for.” Once again he began to carve into her arm, sharper and slowly more agonizing on her part. This time around she couldn’t hold back and her screams echoed through the dining room. It was torture and she wriggled underneath the Count trying to get free.

 

He had to torment her, make her pay for what’d happened to his son, they were both drenched in her blood and when she finally screamed it was enough to make even the spirits run for the hills. He halted apparently trying to regain his hearing before continuing. Then he seemed to have an idea “Pain isn’t giving me enough pleasure but I know something that will.” He sneered taking his knife out of her arm and still sitting on her he began to bunch up her skirts.

 

Fear jumped inside her chest, and the memories of Florence came screaming back, she didn’t mind dying but she hadn’t thought of what might happen before her slaughter. She would not let someone conquer her like that, not again. At his stop she took her chance, her eyes flew open in search of any possible weapon, then she saw it a steak knife. Snatching it with her free arm the hourglass fell off the table as she screamed in a pain of using her freshly wounded arm. “Time’s up” She growled plunging the knife into the Count’s chest.

 

His eyes widened for a moment before locking on her and with the new realization of his murderer he took his dagger from the table where he’d set it “Time’s up for both of us.” He stabbed her in the shoulder. He had been aiming for the heart but missed, he fell backwards off her and to the floor. Her ear-shattering scream was the last thing he heard.

 

As the already blood drenched knife into her shoulder she threw her head back and screamed, panting hard she tried to control herself. She struggled off the table, crawling across the floor which was a sea of blood and bodies. She couldn’t go any farther her shoulder was killing her, quite literally as was the loss of blood. She collapsed in a bloody heap next to the rest, a bundle of blood stained beige fabric and copper hair. The dagger was still in her shoulder and she was bleeding nonstop. When she woke next she was in Mary’s chambers and she could see three blurry figures standing around her.


	2. Returning Home

Mary and Francis had returned to the castle with the others when word got out that all the men were dead. They had raced to the dining room to find a heap of bloody people every single one of the soldiers were dead. Where was Catherine? She must’ve escaped or gone back to her chambers, no she wouldn’t have left. Then Mary spotted her, in a pool of her own blood, a shining blade was submerged in her shoulder. She was practically soaked in blood, her own and everyone else’s, no it couldn’t be they had killed her. Mary couldn’t hear herself cry out as she fell to her knees next to Catherine not caring that her dress was now soaked in blood as well. “Catherine, Catherine oh Catherine we shouldn’t have left you behind.” Francis was next to Mary rubbing her back as she cried, he looked at his mother and felt a lump in his throat rise.

 

“I should’ve stayed with her, I left her behind how could I?! She’s my mother the Queen of France! She died to save us. We are both forever in debt to her, I can’t believe she’s dead.” Suddenly he stopped, her chest rising and falling ever so slightly “Mary she’s alive!”

 

Mary stopped crying “What? How?” Then she too noticed Catherine’s failing breath, she stood up “Bring her to my chambers, I’ll fetch Nostradamus.”

 

Francis scooped Catherine into his arms, trying hard to keep the tears from falling at the sight of her. As he walked down the hall he couldn’t help the memories that came back to him.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

_He was seven years old and he was walking hand in hand with his mother, she smiled widely at him as he told her about his new sword._

_“Will I ever sword fight with someone mama?” He’d asked._

_“Well when you’re king someday you will protect us all.” She’d told him squeezing his hand._

_“I’ll always protect you mommy!” He had exclaimed while hugging her around the knees._

_“I would die for you.” She had whispered as they hugged._

_………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….._

He snapped back to reality, she would die for him he wouldn’t let her he couldn’t loose her. They reached Mary’s chambers and he opened the door with his foot. The room was cast in golden light from the candles and it was warm from the blazing fire. He lay his mother down on the beige and periwinkle bed, good thing these weren’t Mary’s favorite sheets. He sat besides her praying she would make it out of this alive.

 

Mary arrived shortly after Francis accompanied by Nostradamus. Mary’s eyes were still red from tears and when she saw the Queen she seemed ready to sob again but luckily held it back. Nostradamus began to mumble things to himself and then looked up at Francis, “I’ll have to pull the knife out for her to live but the removal may kill her as well.”

 

Francis looked at Mary then to his mother, this was by far the hardest decision he’d ever been faced with. If they left the blade where it was she would forever stuck in bed. On the other hand if they pulled it out she was already so weak the pain on top of blood loss could kill her. He knew if she had any chance of a full life if any life at all they would have to remove the weapon. Taking a shaky breath her turned to Nostradamus, “Pull it out.” He said stiffly, his breath was choked in his throat.

 

Nostradamus nodded and placing his hand on the dagger, then pulled it out of Catherine. It made a squelching noise but it was hardly noticeable over her bloodcurdling scream. Francis held Mary as she shut her eyes looking away, blood spilled from Catherine’s shoulder. Yet Catherine was still passed out from pain and blood loss. Nostradamus got straight to work, wiping the blood off her shoulder and gently pressing a cloth to the wound to stop the bleeding. It seemed as though everyone was holding their breaths, would the Queen survive this? To everyone’s great relief the bleeding subsided and Nostradamus wrapped a bandage around her wound. Mary and Francis stood watching silently not daring interrupt the physician from his work.

 

After cleaning and bandaging her shoulder he moved to her wrists, first he carefully wiped the blood from her arm. Once the dried blood was removed the wounds were visible on her pale arms. Nostradamus stopped and stared at the wounds that led from her wrist up to right below her elbow a moment before muttering “You poor woman.”

 

Francis and Mary had been watching quietly up to this point, Francis stepped forward “What is it?” He asked Nostradamus.

 

He pointed to Catherine’s freshly etched wounds, Francis tilted his head not understanding but when he did he saw it. The sharp engravings were a word, one on each arm, the right arm spelled ‘Unloved’ and the left ‘Heartless’. Francis nearly stumbled backwards in shock this time it was he who had tears stinging in his eyes. “Oh God.” He mumbled in shock.

 

Mary, curios about what they were so anxious about went to Francis’s side and it took her a minute to realize what each engraving read. When she did however she looked up at Francis “Oh Francis that’s horrible, and the scars oh I hope she doesn’t notice.”

 

Francis shook his head “She’ll notice trust me.”

 

Nostradamus sighed “I‘ll bandage them and then she should stay here for a while her shoulder is still raw and any movement will reopen the wound.” He said whilst bandaging her arms ”I’ll check on her tomorrow morning and report anything unusual to me immediately.” He added after finishing the bandaging it looked like she had broken both arms. The good thing was her breathing had returned to normal and she looked as though she was sleeping.

 

Mary and Francis agreed as Nostradamus left them alone with Catherine. She was sleeping and looked like a wounded lioness. Mary settled down in a chair next to the fireplace and let Francis have the couch next to the bed. Sure Catherine had tried to kill her but she meant a great deal to Mary and she would be lost without her. As for Francis she was his mother after all, she had done whatever possible to protect him even if it had seemed wrong in his eyes it had always been for him. Mary drifted off after a half hour but Francis stayed up all night watching his mother breathe softly. Every time his eyes began to droop he remembered that in the morning she could be long gone.

 

As the sun peaked over the mountains Mary awoke, yawning she looked over to Francis temporarily forgetting the previous nights events. When she saw Catherine she screamed then covered her mouth “Sorry, I just…I forgot.” Nostradamus was already there and both him and Francis standing next to Catherine. Mary got up heading to join them and when she did Catherine opened her eyes to look up at them wearily. Mary held breath, Francis watched intently and Nostradamus reached for some water.

 

She had been awoken by someone’s scream for a moment she thought she was back in the dining room with the Italians. Then she saw three people looming over her “Who are you, where am I?” She murmured her vision was still unfocused.

 

“Catherine, it’s just us Mary, Francis, and Nostradamus.” Mary told her softly.

 

Catherine breathed in relief and blinked a few times before everything cleared and she was able to see. “Mary! Francis! Oh you’re safe!” She exclaimed voice filled with relief.

 

“Thanks to you.” Francis said looking at her shoulder.

 

Her shoulder was stinging rather badly but Nostradamus had given her some medicine to help with the pain. The thing that really hurt were her arms they were itching and felt as heavy as rocks. “I would do anything for you.” She smiled at Francis fondly.

 

Then she turned her head to look at Nostradamus, “Thank you Nostradamus for helping me.” She said sincerely.

 

“It was Mary who fetched me I think it is her whom you should thank.” The seer replied.

 

Catherine looked over to the young Queen “Thank you Mary, truly I would be dead without all of you. I thank God we’re all safe. That reminds me how are little Henry and Charles?”

 

“They’re perfectly fine thanks to you.” Francis replied.

 

She nodded feeling a weight lift off her chest everyone was safe. Well everyone but her, at least she was alive.

 

“How is your shoulder feeling?” Nostradamus inquired.

 

“It stings is all but what really hurts are my arms.” She said while tracing the bandage with her fingers. She seemed rather dazed for a moment before snapping out of it and plastering a smile on her lips. “When do you think I’ll be able to get up?” She asked Nostradamus.

 

“In a day or two but don’t attempt to lift anything, or do much with your arms for that matter.” The physician answered.

 

She nodded before closing her eyes again “I killed him…I killed them all” She murmured.

 

Francis and Mary exchanged a look, “We didn’t want to ask but what happened last night?”

 

Catherine didn’t open her eyes and there was a long pause before she finally spoke, “After you left it only took them a few minutes to realize you were up to something. They sent men after you but thankfully you’d already escaped, the men were enraged and naturally they blamed me. For information on your whereabouts the Count was going to cut off my finger but the poison kicked in at the last minute.”

 

“The poison!?” Mary and Francis exclaimed together.

 

“Yes I poisoned the gold and being the greedy Italians they were they stuffed their pockets with it. The only reason I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure it would work. Luckily for me it did, unfortunately the Count didn’t take any of the gold so when all his men fell dead you can imagine he was rather infuriated. Me being the last royal in the castle I naturally tried to escape but he…” She stopped taking a breath before continuing “He smashed me into the table and then…he took out his dagger and told me I would be begging for death before he was through with me.” She refused to look at any of them, “Then he carved each agonizing shape into my arm I have no idea how long it lasted but…then he decided torturing me wasn’t enough.” She heard Mary and Francis inhaled sharply.

 

“Catherine you don’t have to say anything else it’s okay..” Mary told her quickly.

 

“No, it’s okay.” She had to tell them, “Yes Mary he was going to rape me.”

 

“I can leave.” Nostradamus cut in.

 

“Don’t…it’s okay.” She reassured him, “He was pulling up my skirts but I grabbed a steak knife and I stabbed him in the heart. Before he fell off the table he pierced me in the shoulder, I tried to get out of the dining room but I passed out. Thank heaven you found me.” She finished seemingly unfazed but Francis thought he saw her wipe away a tear.

 

“I’m so sorry Catherine.” Mary choked out who had tears of her own.

 

Francis was staring at her astonished and frightened he was rendered speechless. Nostradamus was looking rather awkward but Catherine just smiled sadly.

 

Nostradamus picked up on Catherine’s faraway gaze and realized she needed some time to deal with her emotions, “I think Catherine should get some rest now but I’ll be in to check on you later tonight.” He told them and she sent him a thankful gaze.

 

Mary and Francis nodded and went to follow Nostradamus out but Francis stopped, “I love you mother.” He said softly.

 

She smiled at him “I love you too Francis.”

 

They smiled at each other for a moment before Francis, Mary, and Nostradamus left Catherine to her thoughts.

 

She wanted to pull the blankets around her face and cry but she didn’t mostly because if she moved her shoulder it would reopen the wound. She sighed and closed her eyes letting her mind wander and memories take away from the pain. She spent the rest of the day sleeping and staring into the distance. At around 8:30 Francis came in with dinner and some pain medication, only to find her sound asleep.

 

He sat beside her and noticed that there were dried tear tracks on her cheeks. He knew that the previous night must’ve been a traumatic experience for her but it looked as though she had been crying for hours, her eyes were red and puffy and her nose was rosy. He wasn’t sure if he should wake her or not though he decided against it, if she was resting he shouldn’t disturb her. Then the thought that she would need help eating since her shoulder was unmovable occurred to him and he decided he would stay until she woke. Taking a book in hand he opened it and began to read awaiting her awakening.

 

She was having a nightmare, he slammed her to the ground and wrapped her curls around his arm pulling her head back. He took out his dagger and she screamed as there was stabbing pain in her shoulder and she woke up to see Francis holding her arms to her sides. She was breathing hard and fresh tears fell down her cheeks “I’m sorry…” She murmured.

 

He was so involved in the book he didn’t realize Catherine getting restless. Only when she screamed and a crash on glass sounded from beside her did he realize what was going on. He sprung to his feet and was by her side in an instant, she had swiped her arm, luckily not the one with the wound and hit something, which had smashed to the floor. He grabbed her arms pinning them to her sides so she could do no further damage to herself or anything in the room. He was thankful to see that her injury had not reopened and she began to calm down and waking up.

 

She looked up at Francis and sighed “I’m sorry.” She repeated. Her heart was still racing and her arm stung.

 

“Don’t apologize.” He told her softly releasing her arms. “What happened?”

 

“Just a nightmare.” She assured him.

 

Understanding that she didn’t want to talk about it he didn’t push the subject, “Would you like something to eat?”

 

She smiled at him gratefully, “If you wouldn’t mind.”

 

“Of course not.” He retrieved the chicken broth and cranberry tarts.

 

He helped her eat the soup before handing her the pastry, which she was able to eat with her unharmed arm. Afterwards they began to talk though Francis seemed rather distant. ”Is there something troubling you?” She asked softly.

 

“Well…well yes, it’s Mary I mean of course she’s everything I could have asked for and more but…”

 

“What?”

 

“She’s just so confusing sometimes, one minute she’s smiling at me and the next she’s ready to slice my head off! I try to figure her out but alas. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!”  


Catherine was grinned obnoxiously at her son, “Francis, how often does this happen?”  
  
He looked confused at this question before answering, “Usually once or twice a month otherwise she’s fairly pleasant.”

 

Catherine, no longer able to contain her amusement at her son’s befuddlement, burst into laughter. “Francis you sweet boy. Let me tell you something, it’s most certainly not you and secondly it’s called hormones.”

 

Her quirked an eyebrow at her before laughing under his breath. “Well I’m glad I have someone who can decipher her.”

 

She smiled pleasantly at him before stifling a yawn.

 

Glancing up at the clock he noted that it was almost eleven at night, “I should probably head to bed, unless you’d prefer me to stay.”

 

She smiled at his offer before kindly declining, “I think I best be off to bed as well.”

 

He nodded, planting a kiss on her cheek, “Goodnight mother.”

 

She kissed his forehead, “Goodnight Francis.”

 

Francis picked up the bowl and exited with a last smile in his mother’s direction.

 

When he’d left she closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them and calling, “Linda!”

 

The lady ran in and bowed, “Yes your majesty?”

 

“Could you fetch me Nostradamus? Oh! Don’t wake him if he’s asleep.” She added.

 

Linda nodded and curtseyed before scurrying out.

 

Catherine sighed and began to pick at the bandages on her arms again. They were horribly annoying, yes her arms were still raw and stung with the remembrance of the razor sharp blade, but she wanted them gone all the same. Her sharp nails began to tear away the bandaging when a calloused hand closed gently around her wrist. “Don’t do that.” Nostradamus spoke from beside her.

 

She took her hand away from the wraps angry for being caught but also glad to see him, “Nostradamus I hope I haven’t disturbed you.” Truthfully she wouldn’t have cared if she had troubled him.

 

“You haven’t.” He replied simply.

 

“Good, well I must request something from you. Can you fetch me some of that sleeping potion?”

 

“Nightmares again?” He guessed.

 

She laughed sadly, “I’m afraid so, and I don’t to reopen my wound while having one, I need to get back to Court as soon as possible who knows what havoc has wrecked in my absence?!”

 

“Nothing too bad actually but nevertheless I will get you your sleep pills.” With that he turned to go, “Oh and the King will return in two days time.”

 

“Thank you Nostradamus.”

 

“Of course.” He dipped his head before exiting.

 

_Great just what she needed Henry coming back. Any other time she would be thrilled to be the hero, the damaged warrior but not this time. If Henry learned what she’d done he’d surely be angry with her. She’d killed Count Vincent after all. He was already mad at her for her plotting against Mary so she could only imagine what he’d do if he found out about this._

She sighed audibly before realizing she was picking at her cuticles, an old habit she’d been trying to shake for years but no avail. She forced herself to stop and waited not so patiently for the seer’s return.

 

Nostradamus returned twenty minutes later with a small bottle and a pouch of something.

 

She looked up at him expectantly.

 

He handed her the vial of black potion, “Don’t take it every night or you won’t be able to sleep without it.”  


She sighed, “I’m not able to sleep without it in the first place.”

 

Shaking his head he opened the pouch and took out a roll of bandages. “For your shoulder so it doesn’t get infected.” He explained at her confused gaze. He had to replace the bandages so the cut wouldn’t become infected if that happened there was no way out other then burn the wound away.

 

She just looked at him for a moment before nodding in understanding. She just had to trust him, just trust him. She told herself as he moved to one side of the bed and pulling the nightgown shoulder down so he could see the bandaging. It was stained in burgundy blood and the rest of her arm was pale, lifeless almost. With experienced hands he unraveled the bandage from her wound, when the last layer was to be undone he stopped knowing the blood had gotten stuck to the fabric and it would be fairly painful when he removed it.

 

She noticed his stop and in a slightly choked voice she said, “Go on.”

 

“It’s going to sting.”  
  
“Go on.” She repeated.

 

He nodded and carefully pulled the bandage off her shoulder, luckily only a small part of the scab disconnected from her skin at the bandages removal. There was a small trickle of blood, which he gently wiped away along with the remaining blood. Then he applied some ointment so the wound wouldn’t get stuck to the wrapping again. Taking the clean white cloth wrap from the side table he wrapped it around her shoulder once more. “There you go.” He said softly.

 

She looked up at him with a thankful gaze, “Thank you Nostradamus.”

 

“Of course.” He nodded heading towards the door, “You’ll be up on your feet again in a few days.”

 

“Wonderful.” She nodded.

 

He gave her a knowing smile before disappearing up the stairs.

 

She picked up the vial and took a tiny sip before setting it back on the table, adjusting herself so she could be more comfortable she finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

The next few days were like this, sleep, stare, think, sleep, eat, fiddle with her bandages, sleep. It was awfully tiring and on the third day of lying in bed Nostradamus informed her that she would be able to leave the bed. Of course she couldn’t use her arms for much more then gesturing and changing her cloths. Her shoulder was able to flex but not lift anything or put any pressure on her arm for that matter. He also advised her not to bathe for a few days since it would make the wound weak.

 

She threw her legs off the side of the bed and wobbled for a moment getting use to the use of her legs again. Then she went to the mirror and took a breath before going to the wardrobe and selecting a velvet burgundy gown and fur cloak. Doing her hair up in its usual bun adorned with a golden crown bedazzled with blood red and emerald green gems. She still had her shoulder tightly bandaged and had yet to remove the casts on her arms. She figured she would do it after dinner, just to be sure if the wounds were too ugly Nostradamus could bandage them again.

 

Taking a minute to collect herself and straighten her unfeeling mask she took three deep breaths then sauntered into the Throne Room. The whole Court fell silent as she entered and she couldn’t help the smirk of power that twisted her its way onto her lips. She kept her focus on the seat next to Henry who had returned that morning. Her stride was strong and the only evidence of the earlier weeks events was she herself. When she reached her destination she turned slowly to face the entire French Court with a sturdy face before settling into the throne next to Henry.

 

Henry had spotted her from the moment she entered the room, her long dress and cloak billowing behind her. She was stunning, as always but now so more then ever, there were rumors flying around the castle that Catherine was a victim of the Italians. He didn’t want to believe it and now he knew they couldn’t be true, she looked proud as ever and there were no visible wounds. Though she was wearing a long sleeved dress so he wouldn’t know. As she settled into the throne next to him he had to deprive his eyes from her. The news of the Italians had spread rapidly through the Court and beyond to naturally he had to address it,

 

“As you may have heard a Italian Count and his men seized the castle earlier this week. All be rest assured no one was hurt other then the Italians, thanks to the Queen.”

 

He dared a glance at Catherine but she remanded indifferent. “Everyone managed to escape and Catherine took care of the intruders before they could do so much as lay a finger on her or anyone else.” He said and everyone in Court was seemingly convinced, only the selected few knew the truth.

 

He looked at Catherine once more, trying and failing to get some sort of truth from her eyes.

 

After this the day dragged on, dealing with nobles, planning events, trying to ignore the ache in her shoulder. She couldn’t help notice Henry sending her the occasional glance, she instantly the feared the worst, he was angry. When dinner came around the pain was becoming too immense to be ignorable and she excused herself early. She walked to her rooms and took a sip of the pain medication while removing her cloak. She was physically exhausted and in pain, slipping off her dress and replacing it with a nightgown and robe she went over to the vanity. She began to unravel the cloth on her arms, they itched and made her arms stiff and sweaty. She didn’t look at the wound on her right arm before undoing the one on her left, when the bloody wraps lay discarded on her vanity she finally looked at the cuts on her arms. When she did it took her a moment to realize what they were, a picture? No, words or a word, she tilted her head expecting ‘Traitor’ or ‘Weak’ or an impolite name. Then she deciphered it, ‘Unloved’ her heart gave an unwanted twinge. That word could trigger many memories but the one she replayed in her mind was by far the worst.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

_She practically ran to Henry’s chambers, she had to tell him. She hadn’t wanted to get her hopes but when she was late for two months she knew it could only mean one thing. She was finally bearing Henry’s heir! She was about to burst in when the guard spoke, “Your majesty the King wishes not to be disturbed.”_

_“He won’t mind when he hears!” She exclaimed happily._

_“Your Grace he’s busy please.” The guard looked anxious, “I can covey a message if you wish.”_

_“What’s the problem?!” She was getting impatient now._

_“He has a visitor.” The man murmured._

_“Well then they’ll have to excuse themselves so I can…” Then it hit her and she practically stumbled backwards, this so called visitor was no ordinary person. Just as she had feared, Henry had apparently lost interest in her. “Let me in.” She demanded in a choked voice._

_The guard nodded and let her by, she burst in to see her husband in a heated embrace with his ‘friend’ Diane. She cleared her throat and they broke away both flushed and embarrassed on being caught. She was holding back the tears that stung the corners of her eyes, “What is the meaning of this?!” She shouted._

_“C…Catherine we…it was an accident.” Henry had stuttered as Diane clutched a sheet to her bare body._

_“Yes I can see that.” She hissed._

_“She…I mean we used to…I just…”_

_“You got tired of me.” She finished._

_“No!” He panicked._

_“Don’t deny it Henry you tired of me being a childless wife, I was no longer entertaining for you so you went to your good friend DIANE!” She spit her name like acid._

_“No Catherine you don’t understand!”_

_“I understand very well thank you! I am your wife, your Queen, your partner, YOURS. I do not belong to myself I belong to you and I am here like a pair of gloves waiting for cold weather. When the weather turns cold, you need an heir or a trophy for the guests you’ll pull me out and put me to good use. Well let me just say this, I don’t care with your Diane or anyone else but never, I repeat NEVER think of me as anything more then your Queen.” Tears were running down her face now, “I knew it was only a matter of time, I just thought maybe a little more…” She looked him straight in the face, “I came here with one intention tonight, not to interrupt your fling or burden you with my sorrows but to tell you I am pregnant with OUR CHILD! Not that you might care or perhaps if all goes well and it’s a boy you might be pleased but then I am forever useless to you.” She turned on her heel and stormed to the door but before leaving she managed to choke out, “I loved you Henry but never again…”_

_He had just stood there, said nothing let her pour out her soul and stood there seemingly unaffected. He didn’t stop her from leaving, didn’t come to make amends later, and from that point on he treated her as nothing more then his Queen. The face of Diane always reminded her that she was no longer his, that she was nothing._

_……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….._

She snapped back into the present and realized tears were now trickling down her cheeks. She made no attempt to stop them as she looked at her other arm, ‘Heartless’ she shook her head. Damn memories.

 

_…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………_

_He slammed her into the stonewall and she felt her spine crackle. He pinned her hands to her side and locked eyes with her, “Catherine this is the last straw!”_

_She glared, “Oh what’ve I done this time?!”_

_“You know exactly what you’ve done. You’re flirting with practically all the men in Court! I know our relationship is for duties only but you can at least pretend!”_

_“Oh pretend to love you like I used to?!” She had shouted back._

_“He laughed coldly in her face, “You’ve never loved me and I never you.”_

_Her heart had died in that very moment, tears welled in her eyes and she shut them so they would disappear. “I’ll do what you wish Henry but don’t you ever think I didn’t love you, because in this like many other things, you are wrong.” She slithered out of his grip and walked past him out of the hall, not sparing him a glance back looking back would mean she had a little hope left and she didn’t._

_Once again he hadn’t stopped her, not even been affected by it but of course she had expected this. She knew she was meaningless to him, her heart had turned cold from that moment she didn’t even try anymore._

_…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….._

She let out a sob before sinking to the floor and lying against the wall, face in her hands she cried. The scars would be an everlasting reminder of that night, of Henry’s betrayal, of her pain. Her heart felt like breaking all over again, burying her face in her hands she cried and cried and cried. Too lost in her own sobs to hear anyone enter she was unaware of her uninvited guest.


	3. Trust Me

He knew when she left dinner early it wasn’t just because her so called ‘exhaustion’ his suspicion was proved correct by the way Francis and Mary looked after her. He finished dinner and then strode off towards her chambers, he wasn’t sure if it was really the best idea assuming he hadn’t been welcome there in years. Even though his head told him to let it go and return to his chambers for a good nights rest, his heart told him he needed to see her. When he reached her rooms he found that the guards and all the servants had been excused, now he was really worried.

 

He opened the door to peek in, when he didn’t see her he stepped inside. Her rooms were the same as they had always been, beautiful red curtains and upholstery accessorized with gold. He didn’t see her anywhere and turned to leave when he heard something, a choked sob coming from the other side of the room. Walking over to the bed he saw her, huddled in a corner, face in her dainty hands tears were slipping through her fingers. He couldn’t believe it, Catherine de Medici was crying her heart out. He always knew she had feelings but never had he thought her capable of this kind of sadness. Then he noticed a bandage around her shoulder and the bloody ones sitting on the vanity, so she hadn’t come out of this unscathed. He didn’t know how long he stood there but eventually he walked over to her and went to the floor beside her. “Catherine?” He whispered.

 

She heard an all too familiar voice from beside her and she tried but failed to slow the tears instead they just flowed faster. “I…this isn’t a good time.” She whimpered from behind her hands. She couldn’t look at him, not now.

 

“Catherine please…” He took her hands away from her face only to feel rigid skin underneath his fingertips. Looking down at her upturned arms he inhaled sharply, deep cuts were etched into her smooth skin. Then he realized it said something, when he read what they said his heart sank, now he knew why she was crying. “Catherine…”

 

As he took hold her arms she tried to pull away but he held firmly, the look that passed over his face confirmed he’d read them. Tears practically gushed down her cheeks, it was bad enough that Mary, Francis, and Nostradamus knew, but the shame of Henry knowing was unbearable. She had just given him two weapons against her, him catching her in a meltdown and the scars. “Henry please let go of me.”

 

He shook his head, “I will never let go of you, I’ve made that mistake too many times before.” With that he gently pulled her into his arms and she wept into his chest while he gently rubbed her back.

 

“Y…you only care because I’m h..hurt.” She choked.

 

“I care because you’re my wife.”  


“How convenient for me.” She said sarcastically.

 

“Don’t Catherine not now.”

 

“Please just go.” She begged trying to push away from him but the stabbing pain in her shoulder stopped her.

 

“No, please Catherine, we’ll talk later but not now.”

 

“Henry I can’t, we can’t, leave me I’ll be fine tomorrow I always am.”

 

“I will regret it for the rest of my life if I leave you.”

 

“Well then I guess you’ll have to live with that regret.” She argued.

 

“Catherine why don’t you understand I care about you!”

 

“Yes Henry I can see that, you flirt with every lady who enters this Court shamelessly and then even have a fling with a few of them! I’ve been here, just standing here watching you drag your precious girls in front of my eyes. Not to mention Diane! I should’ve known she was always your true love. You were even willing to have her replace me after you beheaded me! I’m here for two reasons, my money and making heirs, there is no love, no compassion, nothing between us Henry accept it! I did a long time ago. I try Henry, oh I try so hard to be the perfect wife that you wanted but it’s not easy, I have my own life aside from what you know. Don’t tell me you care because in a few days you’ll be off with another girl! Let me deal with my own problems, if I hadn’t saved Francis and Mary you could care less about what happened to me! I’m a heartless, unloved, weak, cold, lonely…” She was cut of by Henry’s lips smashing into hers, it took her a moment to realize what was happening before it was over.

 

“Henry…why?” She breathed.

 

“If you stopped talking for a moment I would’ve told you that I know I was wrong, I know I hurt you but I never stopped loving you. I may spend my days with others but I could never replace you, trust me I’ve tried but no one could ever match you. No one has the sweet scent of your hair, the way a smile curves onto your lips, how your eyes light up when you laugh. I never stop watching you, I notice when your eyes darken and your mind starts whirling with possible ways to kill someone. I notice when your heart beats faster, I can tell if it’s from fear or from excitement. I notice when you look at me, when our eyes meet and instantly we both look away. I notice how your walk adjusts to your mood, you march into the room when angry, you strut when you need the extra authority and have an extra skip in your walk when you’re with the children. I’ve tried, oh I’ve tried to get you out of my mind but no one is like you, no one could EVER be you Catherine. I know I’ve hurt you beyond measure and broken your heart over and over, I know that’s unforgiveable but PLEASE give me another chance.”

 

She listened, shocked and speechless, “Henry we can’t.” She murmured.

 

“We can, if you trust me…”

 

She stayed silent for a long…long time before finally looking up at him, “I can’t.” It was the right choice…she would stay safe he couldn’t hurt her from behind her walls. She had to hide from behind her walls….

 

**Don’t worry this isn’t the end! Cathry shall triumph! Update soon sorry this chapter was so short.**


	4. Grapes

**A/N I know I know I haven’t updated in forever, I apologize… sincerely.**

**Chapter: Grapes**

**Words: 2,222**

****

**_She stayed silent for a long…long time before finally looking up at him, “I can’t.” It was the right choice…she would stay safe he couldn’t hurt her from behind her walls. She had to hide from behind her walls…._ **

****

Henry felt his heart lurch as a sob burst from her lips after she responded, “Henry let me go.” She practically begged.

 

“Catherine…”

 

“ _Please_ Henry.”

 

“I…”

 

“Go!” She had to get him out, before her silly heart tricked her into accepting him again. In a last desperate attempt to shield herself she made the mistake of pushing him away, a gasp of pain left her lips as she clutched her shoulder. Her wound had reopened…she shut her eyes in pain as she started to feel dizzy. She was now panting in pain and her hand was soaked in blood, forgetting all about Henry she tried to scramble to her feet. Unfortunately her legs didn’t agree with that idea and after a yelp of fear she tripped over her own feet and fell onto something surprisingly soft…Henry.

 

“Catherine!” He caught her falling form just in time, blood from her cut dripped down onto his clothes and the floor. She looked up at him foggily, as if she hardly saw him.

 

“Nostradamus.” She whispered.

 

He nodded before scooping her up bridal style and dashing to find the physician, still feeling guilty about the whole thing. Nonetheless now was not the time to feel the blame but to prevent any more damage, he would win Catherine back eventually but only if she lived. Soon enough he reached the seer’s tower and pounded on the door, Catherine had at some point passed out and her mouth was slightly agape. It took Nostradamus a few moments to answer the door but when he did he instantly snatched Catherine from her husband’s arms before Henry could object he’d carried her over to a small bed. Henry followed suit still extremely worried and confused.

 

Nostradamus began to tend to her shoulder, trying to cease the bleeding and keep her alive, “How did this happen? I instructed her not to put too much pressure on her shoulder.”

 

“I don’t know, I found her lying on the floor in her chambers like this.” He lied.

 

“She must’ve over exerted herself.” The physician decided and started to wrap her arm.

 

“Yes err…how exactly did this happen in the first place?” Henry asked.

 

“I’m sorry your Majesty that is not my story to tell.”

 

Henry nodded in understanding…well Francis and Mary must know as well but he would ask them later, he had no intention of leaving his wife’s side at the moment. Nostradamus was finishing up with the bandaging and brewing her some herbal tea and fixing up another batch of pain medication. Henry watched her breath silently, her chest rising and falling gently, face paler then usual and red blood standing out on her fair skin. Her copper curls were brushed out and silky around her gentle face. She still only wore her nightgown and robe, and if he hadn’t known better he’d thought her to be asleep. Suddenly the physicians voice broke his thoughts, “Not to interrupt your Majesty but it would be best if she had something to eat when she wakes…to replenish her strength.” He explained.

 

Henry nodded, “I’ll fetch some things from the kitchens.” With a last longing glance at his unconscious Queen he hurried out to find some food for her.

 

He went to the kitchens and ordered them to fix up the Queen’s favorites then waiting for them to make it up. He ordered, goat cheese, an assortment of fruit, bread, pork kabobs, and water. Everyone seemed fairly nervous to have the King of France watching them from the corner of the room and it made them fidgety. Finally after what felt like an hour they’d readied a basket for the Queen and Henry carried it back to the seer’s chambers.

 

When he arrived he found Catherine propped up by two pillows and sipping her tea silently, when he entered she looked like she was about to launch herself at him. Fortunately for him she was bed bound for the moment…however when she noticed the food she seemed less ferocious. “What are you doing here?” She hissed.

 

“I…I brought you some food.”

 

“Hmm?” She raised an eyebrow.

 

“To replenish your strength.” He said.

 

“I’m not sure you want me to replenish my strength at the moment, considering I feel like ripping you in two.” She glared.

 

“Why is that?” He asked, coming to sit beside her in a chair and opening the basket.

 

“You’re the whole reason I’m here in the first place.” She glowered.

 

“Oh?” He figured he could pry the information on how this happened out of her.

 

“Yeah.” She took an angry sip of her tea.

 

“Want some cheese?”

 

“What?”

 

“Cheese? Do you want some cheese?”

 

“Uh…sure?”

 

“Is that a yes or no?”

 

“Give me the damn cheese!” She growled.

 

“Sheesh.” He handed her a piece of cheese.

 

“This doesn’t mean I’m forgiving you.” She said.

 

“I didn’t say it did.” He said calmly.

 

“Why are you being so nice?” She raised a wary eyebrow, “What do you want?”

 

“I just want to help you regain your strength…so you can rip me in two.” He mocked.

 

She suppressed a smile at this, “Fine.” She took a bite of her cheese.

 

She knew he must be here for some reason, Henry was never there just to comfort her…well not these days anyway. When they were younger he used to be by her side every step of the journey, good and bad ups and downs. She tried to shake these thoughts…no he was here for some reason, she didn’t know whether to be enraged or miserable. Why did he have to play with her heart like this? All she wanted was happiness and…his voice shattered her thoughts.

 

“Grapes?”

 

“Are they green or purple?” She asked suspiciously.

 

“Green, obviously.” He said, once when they were younger the kitchens had brought her purple grapes she had used them to attack him. She hated purple grapes with every fiber of her being and considering the fact she wasn’t going to eat them she decided to put them to better use. Throwing one at a time at him, she had surprisingly good aim even from where she’d been lying on the couch. He’d been trying to dress when she’d hit him in the face with a grape, after that war had broke out. He’d tried to doge her grape bombs but she was quick…the poor servant girl had quite a mess to clean up after that. Never again had he let her get anywhere near a purple grape for fear she might pelt him with them once more.

 

“Too bad, I was feeling like attacking you right about now.” She pouted obviously having been remembering that same experience.

 

“I’m taking that as you do want them?”

 

“Yes.” She nodded.

 

He took out a bunch of grapes and handed them to her, she picked each grape off one at a time popping them into her mouth. She chewed whilst thinking…well if he was here she figured she might as well have a bit of fun. Suddenly a small smirk crept onto her lips putting on a horrified face she gasped, “Henry! What’s that?!” She pointed at the opposite wall with her uninjured arm.

 

Henry whirled around ready to defend his wife from whatever this thing may be, he looked all over searching for the mysterious beast but there was nothing. He started to turn to face her when a grape hit him in the back of the head. He whirled around to see Catherine sitting there indifferently as if she’d done nothing. “Did you just…?” He pointed to the grapes.

 

“No.” She answered plainly.

 

 _“Sure.”_ He rolled his eyes.

“They’re green I would _never_ waist a green grape.”

 

“Whatever you say.”

 

“Tell me you brought some wine.”

 

“You’re recovering from blood loss, no I did not bring wine.”

 

She looked disappointed, “Damn it I could use some wine right now.”

 

“When you feel better.”

 

“Oh what? Now you’re my physician or nanny?”

 

“Perhaps.” He shrugged.

 

“Come on what do you want?” She pried.

 

“I want a lot of things but none that you could give me at the moment.”

 

She raised an eyebrow at him, before chucking yet another grape at him hitting him directly on the nose. He sighed and shook his head, “You’re wasting perfectly good grapes.”

 

“Yes well.” They sat in silence for a few more minutes while she finished up her grapes, him watching her eat and her watching him watch her eat.

 

“Want anything else?” He asked once she’d finished the grapes.

 

“To know why you’re really here.”

 

“Fine. I’m here because you collapsed with your shoulder bleeding nonstop and you have scars on your arms. I want to know what really happened and I’m here because I want to start over…I want to be better.”

 

“Well sadly Henry I can only give you one of those things, I can tell you what happened but I cannot forgive you.”

 

“We’ll work on it.”

 

She rolled her eyes, “Well you see, when the Italians attacked the castle Count Vincent was going to take Francis, Charles, and little Henry away and surely kill them despite what he said. He wanted to end our line since we’d ended his when his son died at our hands. However neither Mary nor I were willing to loose Francis if we could help it. Mary and I devised a plan; we decided that Francis and his brothers along with the rest of the castle could escape through a safe passage in the secret passageways. Then Mary and her ladies would excuse themselves with some silly reason and follow suit, leaving me behind.”

 

“Why?! Why would they leave you?” He demanded wide-eyed.

 

“They left me because I told them to, if the Italians had the Queen of France in their grasp who would suspect a trap? Anyways as I was saying, it all went according to plan, everyone escaped but the men saw the trap. Count Vincent said he might just want to cut off one of my fingers if I didn’t tell him where they’d gone but I refused to tell them loose a finger or not.” Henry’s eyes darted to her hands looking for any missing fingers, “Lucky for me the poison kicked in at that moment…oh yeah I forgot to mention I poisoned the gold. Every one of those men took heaping piles of the gold…all except Vincent.” She scowled. “He knew I was behind it all and decided to punish me.”

 

“ _Punish you?”_

“That’s what I said. He took his dagger out on me but instead of killing me on the spot…which I would have preferred by the way, he tortured me. That’s where these came from.” She pointed to her scars, “Then I saw a steak knife and grabbed in stabbing him in the heart but he stabbed me in the shoulder and yeah.” She purposely left out the part about almost being raped, she corked her head to look at Henry who looked horrified.

 

“Can I see them? Your arms.”

 

She nodded and reached her unharmed hand towards him, wrist up so he could see, there was no avoiding the fact he knew now, might as well not resist him. He took her arm and looked at it sadly, “You’re not unlovable…you must know that.”

 

“I know.” She lied, but truthfully she had always felt like she must be unlovable, it was her truth.

 

“No, you don’t, Catherine look at me, I know you can’t forgive me right now or maybe not ever but you have to know you’re not unlovable. I love you with all my heart and I was a fool not to realize it.”

 

She looked away from him, “Thank you.” She paused for a long moment before continuing, “Now I think I should get some rest, could you alert Francis that I might not be able to attend breakfast tomorrow?”

 

He knew this wasn’t easy for her so he didn’t comment other then, “Yes of course, sleep well.”

 

She nodded and watched him retreat from the room silently, once he’d left she sighed and called for Nostradamus again. She once more requested her sleep potion which he gave her and she was able to fall into a dreamless sleep…she didn’t want to risk nightmares and more importantly, dreaming about Henry. Staying mad at him would be harder then she thought if he kept this up.


	5. Bread Roll

**A/N I know I know I have been neglecting this fanfic! I’m sorry!**

**Chapter: Bread Roll**

**Words: 2,200**

**_She once more requested her sleep potion which he gave her and she was able to fall into a dreamless sleep…she didn’t want to risk nightmares and more importantly, dreaming about Henry. Staying mad at him would be harder then she thought if he kept this up._ **

****

She awoke to find someone hovering over her, “Mother?”

 

“Francis?”

 

“Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I was so worried.” He looked as though he wanted to hug her but decided against it since her shoulder was still raw.

 

“I’m sorry to have worried you, I told your Father to tell you I might not make it to breakfast.”

 

“He told me last night…right after seeing you.” He said.

 

“That silly man, it was almost midnight! He should have waited ‘till morning.”

 

“I suppose but I’m glad he said something, but it’s odd…he’s never been concerned much with your state of health.”

 

She knew Francis hadn’t meant this as an insult but nevertheless it stung, she knew her son was right Henry was never concerned about her these days. It was almost as though she could fall down dead in a hallway and he wouldn’t even spare her a glance. She swallowed and shook off these thoughts before they could go any further.

 

“What happened?” He asked worriedly.

 

“Oh you know me I just overdid myself.” She lied.

 

“I heard Father was visiting you when it happened…he didn’t hurt you did he?”

 

She took her son’s hand, “Your Father would never purposely hurt me.”

 

Francis nodded slowly but didn’t look convinced, “Oh and…I brought you breakfast.” He smiled.

 

Catherine let a small smile spread over her face, a smile that she reserved for her children. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful.”

 

“I can’t stay though, I have a full schedule as of late.”

 

“That’s alright, I’ll be back on my feet in a few hours.”

 

He gave her the tray and helped her sit up a bit, “Just don’t hurt yourself again…don’t you think you should take a sick day? A day to recover, so _that_ doesn’t happen again.” He said, gesturing to her shoulder.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” She smiled.

 

He nodded, “Then I expect to see you at the picnic later” With that he made his leave.

 

Catherine was left in silence, eating the food her son had brought her silently. She didn’t want to face another day all she wanted to do was rest, to curl up and sleep but she couldn’t. She had responsibility, plus if the Queen kept going missing what would the Court think? Sighing deeply she finished up her food and struggled to get out of bed, unfortunately you need _two_ arms to get out of bed.

 

Suddenly two sturdy arms helped her out of bed, and steadied her as she swayed in place, “Thank you Nostradamus I really…Henry?!” She went wide-eyed to see her husband standing next to her, still holding her elbow in case she went under a dizzy spell.

 

“What’s wrong, would you prefer your physician over me?” He asked.

 

“No, no I’m just…surprised to see you.”

 

“I figured I might check on you but as I can see someone’s already beat me to it.” He said, noticing the food tray.

 

“Francis.” She said.

 

“Did you pelt him with grapes too?” He raised an eyebrow.

 

“No, he’s been a good boy.” She countered.

 

“You’re saying I haven’t?” He made a mock pouty face.

 

“No you have not.” She poked him on the chest but despite herself she was smiling.

 

“Do you need any help, back to your rooms?”

 

“No…actually on second thought, considering the fact I’m only wearing a nightgown I might need a cover.”

 

“Like what?”

 

She thought for a moment before answering, “The Court must think we’ve just had a night of passion.” She said seriously.

 

“What?! Why?”

 

“It’s the only other explanation for wearing a nightgown in plain day.” She told him plainly.

  
“Yes but I mean…how would we? Why? Couldn’t you just…” He was flushed in embarrassment as his wife looked at him with an amused expression.

 

“Oh is it so horrid to think that we might be intimate?” She rose in an eyebrow.

 

“No I just…I’m surprised after yesterday…” He quickly wished he hadn’t said that, he had broken the unspoken rule that they would not speak of their conversation the other day.

 

“Yes well, acting and real life are two different things Henry, one can pretend to be in love when in reality they are not or vise versa.” She said calmly.

 

“You know we should really talk about the other day and…” He started but she cut him off.

 

“Henry. There is nothing _to_ talk about.” She told him.

 

“Yes there is, about…”

 

“If you’re not going to help me then please leave, I have no desire to discuss our relationship right now… _or ever.”_ She added to extinguish any hope he might have.

 

He looked long and hard at his wife before nodding, “What do you need me to do?”

 

She gave him a satisfied nod, and let out a small breath of relief at avoiding the talk of any sort of feelings, “Well this room has a staircase that leads to the hall just outside your rooms, it would be impossible to reach mine without being seen so naturally we act as though we’ve just come from yours.” She explained.

 

“Sounds like a plan, one question though. Why would you be wearing a nightgown if we had a night of passion? They usually aren’t…erm… _planned.”_

“Oh would you shut up it’s the best idea I’ve got so if you have a better one?” His silence was her answer and she couldn’t manage to squash the smirk that formed on her lips.

 

“Well then, let’s go shall we?” She asked, he only nodded and they descended down the staircase to the hall. Just before reaching the bottom she put up a hand to stop him. As he opened his mouth to ask what she was doing she pressed a finger to her lips and shook her head. Then she peered through the door, waiting for an empty hall so they could scurry through, to his chambers. Once it was clear she ushered him through the doorway and they sprinted to his door, fumbling with the lock and ignoring the questioning looks from his guards. Once the door popped open they tumbled inside, both suppressing smiles. She turned to look at her husband, who was laughing, “What’s so funny?”

 

“Did you see how the guards looked at us?” He laughed.

 

She grinned, “They didn’t know _what_ to think.”

 

“I’m pretty sure I know what they were thinking.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“They thought we were having a midday affair.”

 

“Well that was the image we were trying to convey.”

 

“ _Actually_ if my memory is correct I remember you saying a _night_ of passion, they think we’re just getting started.”

 

She pursed her lips, “Well that’s a predicament.”

 

“I suppose you’ll just have to stay here for a few hours.” He shrugged, going over to get a glass of wine.

 

“No that’ll never do, I told Francis I would be at the picnic later today.” She grumbled.

 

“Don’t worry about that, it’s a few hours that’ll be plenty of time to convince them.” He said, jabbing his finger towards the door.

 

“Whatever shall we do in the meantime?” She asked.

 

He thought for a moment before a thought struck him, “You had mentioned wine yesterday, I have some from Paris it’s really good.” He offered.

 

“I could go for a glass right about now.”

 

He nodded, and went to get a bottle of wine from the cabinet. After pouring her a glass he set the rest on the side table in case they would want more. He handed her the glass and lifted his, “To deceiving all of French Court for the thousandth time.”

 

She smiled, and took a sip from the wine, he hadn’t been bluffing it was delicious. It probably didn’t help that she hadn’t had wine for nearly a week, especially not quality wine. Taking another drink she looked up at Henry, “Now…what shall we do?”

 

“Talk?” He suggested.

 

“About?”

 

“Well…what do _you_ want to talk about?”

 

“I don’t usually talk to people so I wouldn’t know.” She admitted, taking another sip from her wine.

 

“That’s not true you’re a very talkative person when you want to be.”

 

“I haven’t wanted to be since an encounter I had with the duchess of something or other.” She grumbled.

 

“Oh? What was this conversation about?”

 

“Well, she commented on how unusual the color of my hair was.” She said.

 

“I don’t see how that’s offensive.”

 

She laughed coldly, “I’m not done. You see after that I said that yes it was unusual to see in France but in Italy it was quite common. She countered that Italians were queer, I asked how so. She said they were rude, snarky, and usually self-centered, I asked her if she’d ever been to Italy and she said she had not. However, she continued she knew from meeting several Italians that they were annoying, unusually short, and fiery. After that I was not only personally offended but all together fed up so…I told her she looked like a bread roll.” She snuffed out a giggle at the last part.

 

“You called her a bread roll?” He sputtered.

 

“Might’ve.” She said sheepishly, refilling her wine glass.

 

“What did she say then?”

 

“She gave me the look you’re giving me.” She smirked.

 

“I can see how you might be a bit done with people after that.”

 

She nodded, “Quite.”

 

“Personally I like short, fiery Italians.”

 

She simply rolled her eyes at this and gulped down the rest of her wine. She refilled once more and Henry raised an eyebrow, “You know if you’re that thirsty I can get you some water.”

 

“Wine will do.” She answered.

 

He shrugged, “Oh you know that reminds me.”

 

“Of?”

 

“A couple weeks ago at a party that I think you must’ve missed everybody had far too much to drink. You see, the wine had been transported from Portugal and it was _divine_ nobody could have just one glass. T         here was dancing and all of that fun stuff and by nine everyone had drank about seven glasses of wine. Poor Francis is like his Mother can’t hold his liquor.”

 

“Can’t hold my liquor?” She scoffed, downing her third glass of wine and going for another she smirked, “You’ve only had one.”

 

“Yes well, I’m not done with my story. Francis comes stumbling over to me, Mary by his side both of them looking just as drunk as I knew they were. Francis poor boy started to introduce Mary to me…thinking I was Charles.” He laughed, shaking his head.

 

Catherine held back her giggles by gulping down some more wine. “What did Mary do?”  


“She patted me on the head saying how sweet a little brother Francis had.”

 

“Dear Lord.” She laughed.

 

“I told him that he might as well head off to bed but he said they needed to meet you. I told them you weren’t there but Mary cried out that there you were and the both of them rushed off to praise and meet the great Catherine de Medici…flower vase.”

 

By this time Catherine had finished her fourth glass of wine and the fact that her son and his betrothed had thought her to be a flower vase sent her into peals of laugher. Shrieks of laughter bounced of the walls as she tried to contain herself. To anyone who’d had less wine it would be worth a mere snort but she was in peals of laughter. Henry just chuckled, watching his wife clutch her sides in laughter. He filled his glass for his second glass of wine and when she finally managed to calm down she was thoroughly out of breath and pink in the cheeks. “You didn’t think to intervene and tell them that I in fact was _not_ a flower vase?” She questioned, filling her glass for the fifth time.

 

“Well, considering the fact they already believed me to be Charles I thought it would only cause more havoc.”

 

She giggled as he downed his third glass of wine and went for more, “How many glasses had they drank?”

 

“Seven…eight maybe.”

 

“Amateurs, it takes that much for me even to get a buzz.”

 

“Says the woman who was just laughing her head off on her fourth glass.”

 

Looking mock offended she finished her fifth glass and stamped the goblet down on the table, “How many have you had? One?”

 

“Four.”

 

“Oh shoot you’re catching up to me.” She refilled and downed for the sixth time and went to refill once more only to find the decanter empty. Sighing deeply she just now realized how much wine she had consumed and how utterly exhausted she was.

 

Grinning up at Henry she pat his hand gently, “Would it be alright I f I took a teeny tiny nap?”

 

Smiling at her he nodded, “Go right ahead.” He expected her to either get up and go back to her own chambers but when she lay down on the settee he was surprised. She curled her legs up to her chest and closed her eyes almost immediately falling asleep.

 

**A/N omg you guys Reign is over! I’m crying help.**


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